


Tethered

by Synsouls



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, M/M, Not all mentioned characters have shown up yet, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Question is when, Revolution, Slavery, Sort of a monsterstuck with the trolls?, Will add more characters as needed, definite violence, does it count though?, fluff later, not completely sure - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3635919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synsouls/pseuds/Synsouls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the year 2065, Project Alternate was introduced. The goal was to mix the genes of humans and several animal species in the hopes of creating an advanced human.</p>
<p>Nearly 100 years later, 2154, they succeeded.</p>
<p>It only took 76 years for the humans to be overwhelmed, for even though there were few trolls, they used far more of their brain than humans, and were far stronger.</p>
<p>Now in the year 2870 humans are slaves and pets, the trolls are led by the first of their kind, Her Imperious Condescension, and things don't seem to be changing.</p>
<p>Some humans have escaped control and live in hiding.</p>
<p>Some trolls must also remain hidden out of fear of getting culled for speaking up for equality.</p>
<p>Some humans, and trolls too, find themselves wondering how they got in this mess.</p>
<p>A hurricane is brewing, and they're caught in the eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Faeries and Tea

**Author's Note:**

> First off, this is my first fanfic. Second off, I've been brainstorming shit up for this for at least a week. Been planning this baby out, so that I can be prepared for the news and delivery, so I can be ready to have this little tyke running around fucking shit up. Hopefully, it'll be beautiful. If not, well at least this isn't a real baby. Updates to this will not be coming at set intervals, due to school and other activities, but they will be happening. Anyhoo, on to the show!

_Riiiiiiiing!_

The sound of the alarm jerks you out of your slumber, and you sit up with a small groan. The sun wouldn't even set for another hour, and you wanted to finish your dream, in which you were flying through the clouds, free as a bird, with the wind blowing all around you, urging you on.

Your name is John Egbert, and you probably shouldn't let anyone know about that dream.

The sound of your sister -half sister- getting out of bed at the other end of the room jerks you out of your thoughts, and you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand. You take this moment to stretch and crack your back before surveying the room. There were eight beds, including yours and your sister's, and in front of each bed was a small chest that held your meager belongings, mostly clothes, though you also kept a small stuffed rabbit that you had once found when accompanying one of the Serkets out into town, and you had affectionately named it Liv. You don't know why, you just love that name. The beds were all in pristine condition, it was part of your daily chores to clean the mattresses, sheets and pillows and you must say that even though you hate it you did a good job of it. You and Jane were the only ones in the room. The other six humans that that slept in this room had to get up earlier than you two, as they were older and had more demanding tasks. Jane helped in the kitchens, cooking and cleaning as needed, though her favorite activity was to bake. You were sometimes told that your dad also loved baking. You never knew your dad. You were also told you two took after your grandparents in appearances, Jane after grandma, you after poppop. Of course, you never knew them either.

And there you go, off in your head again. You often got in trouble for getting sidetracked so easily. You end up not hearing what you're being told, and often end up with a smack upside the head. Not hard, of course. You like to count your lucky stars on that. If it weren't for Vriska always vouching for you, you'd probably end up punished a lot worse, and a lot more often. Despite all appearances, Vriska can actually be more sensible than her sister, Aranea. Not that anyone believes you when you tell them that-

_"John!"_

Jane's voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife through butter, and you look over to see her standing with her hands on her hips and her left foot tapping against the floor. She's already prepared for work, wearing a plain beige dress and an apron, glaring at you through her glasses. The way her eyebrows were scrunched together in frustration told you that she must have been trying to get your attention for a little bit, now, and you realize that you're still standing in your pajama shorts. You don't wear a shirt unless it gets too cold. 

"What?" You ask obliviously.

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner and the corners of her lips quirk up in a small smile. "You're needed in Vriska's room in half an hour, John, so you better hurry up and get there!" You couldn't resist flashing your own buck-toothed grin, and as you open your chest to pull out a plain white shirt and black shorts you hear the door creak open and closed, and her footsteps receding down the hall.

It doesn't take you long to dress, and soon you find yourself heading down the hall, the walls a slate gray. The servant quarters weren't lavish like the rest of the home, though unlike most homes they contained all of the necessities - beds, warm showers and bathrooms, and the best part, a sort of living room in which you all gather around the fire at the end of the day and hear all sorts of stories and fairytales. You've memorized several of them and always get into the storytelling when it's your turn, acting out the scenes. You love pretending you're a knight fighting a dragon or a prince astride a noble steed.

You can immediately tell the difference when you enter the main hall. The walls are jet black with a cerulean spiderweb design stretching along wherever walls touch. Candles and the occasional lantern of fireflies offer a soft glow compared to the moonlight that had seeped through the windows in the previous hallway. You had a schedule that involved sleeping in the day and being busy at night due to the preferences of the Serkets, so you don't see the sun a whole lot. Sometimes you spot an actual cobweb on the ceiling, and you have to resist the urge to bolt into the first room you see. Despite having to live with spider trolls your whole life, legitimate spiders scared the fuck out of you. You weren't allowed to kill them, but if you saw one you normally screamed bloody murder until someone else physically removed you from the room. The Serkets don't really scare you, though. Well, Aranea does, but Vriska isn't all that bad. Speaking of which, you find your feet had taken you up the wooden staircase to Vriska's room in the left hall, last door on the left, while you were once again off in a mental tangent. Well done feet.

You hesitate before bringing your fist up and firmly knocking on the door. "Miss Serket?"

The door swings open and you have to look up a little to see Vriska's grinning face. She's a couple inches taller than you at 5'8", and she tugs you in with two arms while shutting the door with her other two, exclaiming something about you being right on time.

Oh yeah, Vriska has four arms. So does Aranea. It sort of runs in the family. They were closely related to insects and spiders, and also had cerulean, almost faerie-like wings. Not that you believed in faeries. Shit, wasn't there a story you were told about how thinking that or saying it killed a faerie? Fuck, you just killed a faerie. You'll probably end up cursed or something now.

Vriska's voice breaks your thoughts. "Joooooooohn! Are you listening?" A claw-tipped hand waves in front of your face and you blink. "Oh, sorry," you say sheepishly. She rolls her eyes with a snort. "Jeeeeeeeez, sometimes I find myself wondering what goes on in your head!" she exclaims, before giving you a smile that shows off her fangs. "I was asking you if you wanted to help me get back at Aranea! She put me through one of her booooooooring lectures again, something about, I don't know, taking proper care of tarantulas? Yawn! Anyways, she made me sit there for _hours_ , hours which I'll _never_ get back!" You're listening, of course, but you're also looking at her left eye while you do. Her and her older sister both have what they call "vision eightfold" and their left eye was split into seven different pupils. You don't see the advantage, besides what is likely weirdly distorted vision. She wears a black tank top with the Scorpio symbol in cerulean, and a gray jacket over it. Like all trolls, she had horns that you were once informed resembled candy corn, one ending with a hook and the other tipped with a sort of crescent. 

"Anyways, I was thinking we set up something _really_ elaborate this time, something with I'd say about several gallons of ice water, a Gila monster and a way to rig it so she triggers it juuuuuuuust right..." You find yourself definitely paying attention now. Pranks are your forte, after all, and even though they always involve some sort of deadly addition, Vriska tends to come up with several good ideas that the two of you refine into perfection before putting them into action.

After finalizing the details, and exchanging the Gila monster for a Burmese python, Vriska sends you downstairs to the study in order to determine the best location to set up your little trap. Everyone knew you two spent a lot of your time pranking Aranea, everyone except Aranea herself. Before recruiting you, Vriska had still pulled many pranks on her sister, so there wasn't much of a difference after she decided she could take advantage of owning servants to further her pranking skills. Lucky for her, you had a few of your own tricks up your sleeve, and now the two of you are the closest a human and a troll can get to being friends.

When you finally reach the study you spot Aranea with her nose buried in a book, the light of a firefly jar illuminating the words on the pages for her. "Ah, hello, John. I was just about to call for someone," she spoke up without moving, her focus always on the book. "You see, I find myself hungry but I don't exactly want a full breakfast currently. Could you perhaps go to the kitchen and bring me tea and biscuits?" Easily hiding your slight frustration you nod and bow. "Of course, Miss Serket." The words tumble easily from your mouth; you're used to saying them. You notice her wings flutter in approval just before you turn and leave, sighing as your stomach grumbles it's approval at your next destination.

You can smell the food from here, and it doesn't take you long to reach the source, the noise of the kitchen immediately assaulting your ears. It was never really quiet in the night, with Jane ordering everyone else around - "No, wait until after the biscuits to put in the cookies! Breakfast comes first!" "Don't let the sausage gravy burn!" "Shucks, John, what are you doing in here? It's a madhouse!" When she turns to you, baking spoon in one hand and an oven mitt on the other, she looks almost frightening. "We're having guests over today and Miss Aranea requested a full and proper meal so you scurry on out!" It takes you a moment to find your voice, and by the time you speak up she's already trying to push you out through the door. "I was sent to get some tea and biscuits!" you yelp, because damn why is she strong it's not fair your mangrit doesn't stand a chance.

She stops immediately. "Well, why didn't you just say so sooner you doofus! Stay by the door and I'll bring you some. Don't touch anything." And with that, hurricane Jane moves to another location, shouting that they needed Darjeeling tea, and they needed it now. You just stand there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, and you take some flour from the sack next to you as you wait, your gaze flickering about to make sure no one notices.

It doesn't take very long for her to get back to you with a tray that had a plate loaded with biscuits and butter, and a pitcher of Darjeeling tea and a cup. You take the tray, and thank her by throwing the flour at her and running with a grin and a laugh, thinking about how you just got your sister, and you got her good, and oh no this was a bad idea you're as graceful as a giraffe on stilts and you're falling and there's hot tea and biscuits everywhere and it looks like you broke the dishes too. There's a loud crashing sound and you've fallen flat on your face. You manage to pull yourself into a sitting position with a groan, rubbing at your bruised nose and yep you definitely broke the dishes there's glass everywhere and oh no Jane looks pissed and her face and hair are covered in flour and your prankster's gambit is totally going down because this did not turn out well at all. 

You hear someone clearing their throat, then the unmistakeable voice of Aranea. "If you're done flailing about everywhere I would like you to clean this mess, and I want to have a word with you after." You lower your head and nod dejectedly at this because you definitely screwed up this time and you can only hope Vriska bails you out of this one too and then you feel bad because that is exactly what she does, every time. You just hold your hands out to accept the mop and broom Jane gives you before setting to work, gingerly stepping around the glass as you clean up your mess. The biscuits are soggy and dirty now, food that had gone to waste.

By the time you finish Jane had already made more tea and had brought it to Aranea, who migrated back to the study -seriously, how does she know when something happens?- along with some extra biscuits. She had given you a sympathetic look when she left, her anger seemingly forgotten, and you find you have to muster up some courage before pushing open the study door and stepping in. Aranea could be frightening when she wanted, and you hoped she was still in a relatively good mood.

You were so busy thinking you almost missed her speak.

"John, I understand you have an... eager personality, but you must be careful. We're having the Peixes girls over today and I want to keep everything in pristine condition. You know this is important." You nod and gulp, and she looks over her glasses at you in a stern manner before continuing. "The older Peixes isn't as lenient as we are, and if she catches you acting up in any way, I probably won't be able to stop her from retaliating. So, instead, I'd like for you to spend the day cleaning the servants' quarters, and you may eat when you are finished." Your stomach lets out a rumble of complaint at that; you had forgotten your hunger with the tea and biscuits fiasco. "Now, please, go on." Aranea smiles and you remember why you liked being here over anywhere else. Vriska was tough on everyone but you, while Aranea is always trying to temper Vriska by being lenient where she isn't and tough where it's necessary. That didn't mean you didn't find her completely terrifying. You know she isn't how she seems, and you sometimes wonder if Vriska notices too. Aranea turns and focuses on her book again, and you understand that you have been dismissed, so you leave the room, making sure to shut the door quietly, before thinking about the visitors that will be arriving as you head along. Even though you won't get to see them, you know they're fuchsia trolls, and their mother is the Condesce herself. You're suddenly very grateful you aren't meeting them. One fuck up and you'd probably be dead or something equally horrifying.

You don't want to think about that. There are plenty of things just as bad as death.


	2. Wake Up And Smell The Bacon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Chapter two~ Sorry this took so long, though, I had some family times. It was also going to be longer, but since there would be a major setting change, I decided to split it up. Chapter three will be where things will begin to slowly pick up.
> 
> Also, further warning, this is going to be a little messed up at first.

It's dark.

_No shit, sherlock!_

It's cold. 

_It's always fucking cold._

You're alone.

_No, I can't be._

There's just the gray walls, the colors, and the blood.

It's all the colors of the rainbow, and then some. Eleven different hues. Then blood. Dripping down the surface, pooling on the floor, all around you.

And the room is pulsing. Like it's alive.

It is alive.

The colors writhe on the wall, it beats like a heart then you are surround by different colored eyes staring at you, and you feel sick to your stomach.

It pulses and shudders, and the blood is to your knees.

You catch a glimpse of an arm in a wall; a flash of a leg. A foot. A mouth. A face. A face with the eyes gouged out and it's mouth open in a final silent cry of death.

The blood is up to your waist now.

Hair. Another face. There's piercings. You recognize it as Porrim Maryam, your friend Kanaya's older sister. It's just her head though, blood dripping from her neck. It rolls from the mass stretching around you, splashing you with blood as it sinks into the surrounding pool. 

You want to scream.

You want to move.

The blood is at your shoulders. You're going to drown in it.

That's when you feel it. Something brushes against your leg, and grabs it. Gray hands are reaching out, swiping at you, trying to drag you under, not that they need to. You can't swim. You can't see anything but red.

You choke on it, as the warm and sticky liquid fills your mouth and nose, floods your lungs. As you start to grow weak, you can hear a voice.

_"Never in my **life** have I spoken with someone as triggering as you-"_

You jerk awake in a cold sweat and there are two things that should be known. One, your name is Karkat Vantas. Two, you have never been more grateful to hear your brother's voice. Fuck, you've never been grateful to hear his voice before _period._

As you sit up, rubbing your head, you can hear Kankri arguing with someone just down the hall. You get up and look around your small chamber. It was perfectly organized: all of your clothes were in a makeshift dresser made of wood, your tools in a desk your brother managed to get you, and posters that may or may not have been legally acquired were all that was visible from the glow of the small candle you had lit upon standing. The light of the flame danced upon the stone walls of the cavern, and you shiver a bit. It was always dark down here, and it was always cold. You need something to warm you up, so you strip down to your boxers, which had little crabs printed on them, and pull on sweatpants and a sweater. Much better.

You go to your door but hesitate as you hear them.

"Dude, you can't just fucking go and talk someone's ear off. We literally had someone with their ears bleeding, man. Not cool."

You groan. It was definitely a Strider. Those little shits were everywhere - four of them total, and all a bunch of assholes in your book. The question is, which one is it?

"Well, _Dave,_ I was just coming to awaken my brother for breakfast. As you may know, breakfast is an important meal that gives your brain the boost of energy it really needs after a good night's sleep-"

"Woah, hey, calm down there, I didn't ask for a lecture, I just wanted you to spare a guy for once. Seriously, it's like you're run by a motor. I'll get Karkles, you can... "

You groan. Dave was as bad as Kankri. Well, that's a lie. If you were given a choice between McShades and your brother, you'd go for the former every time.

Not long after, you can hear pounding on your door, the sound echoing through the room. The whole refuge was deep underground, and with good reason. If they weren't were the senses of the insectoid drones could never locate them, they would have all been enslaved or culled a long time ago. That was the way it was for humans, mutants, and rebels. Of course, that doesn't mean it's impossible to get supplies. Trolls were less noticed in towns, especially with a human in tow. Through that, your little underground community gets supplies and information often. 

"Come on, Karkles! Some delicious shit is cooking in the kitchen and if you don't hurry your little gray ass up Bro's gonna eat it all, and if he does then the orphans here will go hungry, and we don't want starving orphans. That's the worst shit. Like, sorry kid, your parents are dead, and that fatass just ate your eggs. Shit happens."

You groan. "Alright, fine! I'll be out in a fucking minute, you ignorant shitwipe! Just shut your face hole!" You tuck in the blankets so they're just right, take a quick glance around to make sure everything's organized, then proceed to the door. You open it to come face-to-face with who you think is one of the most annoying humans you've ever met. Not that you've met a lot of humans. He wore a white raglan shirt with long red sleeves and a pair of black jeans held up by a just-as-black belt. He looks you over, arching a white eyebrow over his shades. "How the fuck do you manage to be adorabloodthirsty this early in the morning? Sun ain't even all the way up yet." And there he goes. Sometimes you wondered how the albino was always able to tell the time, even when several yards underground. You had no idea why he wore sunglasses all the time, either, especially in the tunnels where sunlight was nonexistent.

"Just get out of the goddamn way, Strider. I need my daily dose of protein so I can properly greet the world with middle fingers up and a very pleasant fuck you." You shove past him and head down the hall, only to here him call out from behind you, "Someone's being a little crabbykat!"

You flip the bird at him without looking back, instead following the delicious scent of eggs and oink-creature, or ham, as the humans preferred. You still don't understand the name.

You are soon greeted with the sight of Rose flitting about the kitchen as she cooked, assisted occasionally by Tavros. Rose was a human with a black headband in her short blonde hair, wearing a black dress and a purple sash around her waist. She became a part of the refuge when her mother one night had taken her and her sister Roxy to the woods as the trolls who owned them were dealing with a fire in their home.

Tavros, on the other hand, is a troll like yourself. Not a mutant troll, however. He has large bronze eyes and markings, horns that often reminded you of a bull, hooved feet, and a tail. He would have been just fine in normal troll society, except for one thing: he was a paraplegic. He had been paralyzed from the waist down by another troll and left to die. His older brother, Rufioh, found him, and the two had ended up in the refuge after. He always tried to be helpful, though was often a bit of a pushover. The kid needed a boost of confidence.

Rose speaks up, having not looked up once. "I heard my mother and Dave's brother speaking earlier. It's your turn this week for supplies. I took the liberty of setting your cloak in the corner, perhaps you'll listen to me for once and actually take it to the Maryam's to have it repaired? Not only are they the best around, they also have easy access to needed information. You should stop avoiding them."

You sigh. "I'm not _avoiding_ them, Rose. I just think there are other things more important than clothes."

She glances at you with her piercing purple eyes, a color that was always unnerving to see on a human. "Ah yes, there are things more important than clothes, such as _knowledge._ The Maryams are the best source of said knowledge, and you can't avoid them forever."

You nod after a moment. "I know," you mutter, looking away and crossing your arms, "It's just awkward the way Kanaya looks at me. Like she expects me to go out and start preaching for equality like my father. Become a martyr." Rose nods and just looks back to the stove, soon handing you a plate loaded with scrambled eggs and oink-creature. "Now go on and eat up. Don't forget to check in to see who's going with you today."

Her words serve as a reminder. You're supposed to bring a human when you go. Having someone to back you up is better than being caught alone, and it is common for a troll to go out with a human in tow to assist them. You try not to plant your face in your food in frustration at the thought. You don't _want_ to have to take any of these humans with you. Roxy would be loud and obnoxious, Rose would just give you disappointed looks, and Dirk and Dave would _both_ try their hardest to embarrass the fuck out of you.

You hate the humans you're stuck with.

You sit down and eat, only to have a shadow stretch over you. It's Dave, and he sits right across from you. "Sup. Bro caught me in the hall, said it's our turn to go. You ready?" You groan, and facepalm. Of _course_ it was Dave. of all the asslicking idiots it could have been, it was Dave. "Wonderful," you mutter. "Just turn me in to the drones now, spare me the humility of being seen in public with you."

"Not gonna happen. You and I, we're going to have one hell of a time. We're going to bond today, and it'll be the start of a beautiful broship. The sky's gonna weep tears of joy and sing praises for us and stories will be told of the troll and human who became the best of bros." Cue facepalm number two. "Just... shut the fuck up." You proceed to shovel food into your mouth.

It didn't take either of you long to finish, and soon you're securing the clasp of your cloak as Dave takes a moment to speak with Rose. When he comes out you have a collar in hand. "You know the rules about humans in public, just put the fucking thing on." He looks at it and just snorts. "Kinky." You can feel your face heat up, but you for once manage to keep your mouth shut as he takes the color and puts it on. It was law, after all. Any humans taken out with their owners in public had to wear a collar and leash, or they'd end up taken and resold. You really didn't care for it, but if you came back without Dave you'd be fifty shades of fucked up. And even if he was annoying as fuck, you'd probably miss arguing with the bastard.

"So, are we going or not? I'm not getting any younger here, if we were to just sit here and wait for you to snap out of it, I'd end up old and gray. I'm not ready to lose my beauty."

"What beauty? You look like a shitstain to me." And with that, ignoring a dramatic gasp from Dave, you make your ascent through the tunnels, where civilization awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :33 Also, I'm grateful for the positive response so far!

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like more info, please check out my tumblr!
> 
> http://rainblowpop.tumblr.com/


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